At 2 in the dark dewy morning, the half-moon-shaped Nazrul Mancha is a sea of people. Old and young, the silk and chiffon brigade and the jeans and kurta-clad, the elderly with walking sticks by their side and the blonde foreigner glued to her handycam. Some with eyes shut, experiencing an ecstasy, some nodding in a daze and a few dozing off ... | Read..